


The Shelton Show

by CaptainKenway



Category: The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Truman Show Fusion, First Meetings, Hollywood, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:51:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10064162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainKenway/pseuds/CaptainKenway
Summary: Blake Shelton has been the unwitting star of The Shelton Show since he was born and everything was going smoothly until Adam Levine gets hired on as a random extra.OrBasically The Truman Show except shit gets done faster





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this isn't edited as much as I usually edit things before posting, but it's like 4am and I need to sleep soon so ENJOY!

It’s not like this was Adam’s dream job. It was probably someone’s dream job—The Shelton Show was too popular for it not to be—but Adam? He didn’t really care about some sheltered teen whose life was manipulated by Hollywood bigshots. It was the making for a psychopath.

“Now, the rules are very simple,” a balding man said in a monotone voice. Adam was pretty sure he played Blake’s history teacher last year. “You all will be extras at Seahaven Community College. You are not to interact with Blake unless otherwise directed by a producer. You are to populate the campus and fill seats. You don’t cause scenes or do anything stupid in a vain attempt for your five seconds of fame. You will not—”

The room was surprisingly cramped for it to be owned by a multibillion dollar corporation. Most people were around Adam’s age—he supposed NBC couldn’t hire 30-year-olds to play college students like studios usually did since Blake would be suspicious—and listened with varying degrees of interest.

Adam glanced over to see Christina taking notes. Nerd. Of course, she actually wanted to be a Hollywood starlet so he supposed making a good impression on the current most popular network on television was a good idea. Not that an extra on The Shelton Show was her dream job either, but it was better than nothing.

Besides, if Christina did well enough then maybe the showrunners would give her a speaking role. And everyone and their grandmother were orgasmic for this improv reality show. Well, people were either obnoxiously for it or loudly against it. Either way, the human rights scandal that was The Shelton Show maintained high ratings and consistent sponsorship so she could definitely find a job after a hypothetical speaking role.

“...No reference to outside events, no cell phones, no swearing, no innuendos. Remember, this is a family show.”

Something Adam was surprised continued after Blake hit puberty, but the show apparently saved Blake’s virgin ears. Either that or they brainwashed him into thinking ‘gosh darn’ and ‘gee whittakers’ were the swear words to end all swear words. In the end, the show maintained its grossly G rating so none of the parental groups could get upset.

Really, the only protest groups were those that wanted NBC to free Blake and let him live a normal life, especially since he’s a legal adult now. Which yeah, Adam got. This show was pretty fucked up honestly. But what exactly could a broke college student do? A whole lot of nothing was the correct answer.

So even though the protest groups against The Shelton Show were growing, none of those protest groups included networks, major government officials, or anyone with sway over Hollywood. Steven Spielberg and random bigshots like Angelina Jolie were notable exceptions but besides bitching about the immorality of The Shelton Show at random award shows, they didn’t actually do anything. And government agencies were too allergic to stances to take a stand in the middle of The Shelton Show controversy.

“You already made it through our extensive application process,” the balding man said. Extensive. Right. Adam and Christina were only here because his aunt had connections in showbiz. As in she was a writer for another show at NBC. “Don’t mess it up now. This show is a chance of a lifetime.”

That was one phrase for it. Ambiguously immoral was definitely another one.

But the pay was _so_ good and Adam’s student loans were already at a disgusting level. Money was a huge reason why everyone universally turned a blind eye to The Shelton Show. Another being Blake’s endearing nature? Maybe? He supposed watching a baby grow up in front of you, even if it was on a screen, sparked an emotional connection. Honestly, he had no idea how the network ever got away with legally adopting a kid and pimping him out on 24/7 worldwide coverage all the while keeping the kid oblivious to the fact he was constantly on camera.

But they did and now Adam had a cushy summer job. Time to let bygones be bygones.

“You all will have an alias,” the old man said. “On set, you will only refer to each other by your aliases. You never know if Blake will be listening.”

“Blake doesn’t know our names now,” Adam muttered. “Why do we need fake ones?”

Christina rolled her eyes. “Shh.”

“We will pass out your biographies, which you can add your file of town information,” the bald man said. “The first day of school starts tomorrow so we need everybody in at 6am so we can be ready for Blake at 8.”

“That’s so early.”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Christina said.

“Congratulations on making it onto The Shelton Show,” the old man said in a louder volume probably supposed to convey excitement. It didn’t. “Good afternoon, good evening, and good night.”

Adam hoped he never stayed at a job long enough to sound that dead on the inside.

 

* * *

 

Adam shifted on his mark. So far the day had been exceptionally boring. Not that he was surprised. He and Blake shared a couple classes but he didn’t sit by the show’s star and wasn’t meant to get in the way of Blake’s best friend, Luke Bryan, or current love triangle, Gwen and Miranda. So he remained off the wide-eyed, potential psychopath’s radar.

Christina poised mid-walk between Adam and the token black guy, real name Usher—which was badass—fake name something unremarkable and forgettable. They waited for their cue which was Oklahoma blaring out of the campus speakers.

One Shelton Show misconception: Everybody did not have an earpiece to connect the actors directly to the show’s headquarters and their instructions. As Blake’s ex-history teacher explained, earpieces would be too costly especially for people in such minor roles. So they had to rely on irritating, cheesy showtunes.

“I’m hungry,” Adam said, his voice carrying a surprising amount considering this part of set—sorry, campus—had about 30 people in it.

“We literally just ate lunch,” Christina said, not shifting position or otherwise acting like a normal person.

Usher had no such qualms. He stretched and leaned against a pole. “Lunch implies there was good food.”

“It was shit food,” Adam agreed. “I expected more from The Shelton Show.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Christina said.

“Producers can’t hear you,” Adam said. “You don’t have to suck up anymore.”

Christina rolled her eyes. “There are cameras everywhere.”

“And they would be watching us why?” Adam asked. “There’s not a single Blake Shelton near us.”

“I think Gwen and Miranda are supposed to crash Blake’s lunch,” Shakira, The Shelton’s Show other splash of color, said. She sat on the bench in front of the trio but now turned so she could face them. “That’s much more interesting than random nobodies talking.”

“Who do you think he’ll go for?” Christina asked.

“Who cares?” Adam asked.

Christina broke her stance to swat him. Rude.

Shakira shrugged. “I don’t know. Miranda was his childhood friend but then Gwen moved next door his senior year. He seems to genuinely enjoy both girls.”

“It’s a shame this show isn’t progressive enough for a threesome,” Adam said. “It’s also a shame both of them are literally actors who fake everything around him.”

Oklahoma crackled out of a nearby speaker and everybody instantly began moving and pretending that they were real people. Everyone except for Adam who stared at the speaker in disgust.

“I always forget how shit the show’s music is,” Adam said.

“Adam,” Christina hissed as she and Usher walked across the campus square.

He rolled his eyes. It’s not like anyone would realize he wasn’t at his assigned spot. It wasn’t a big deal and—

Someone banged against him hard, sending Adam tumbling forward.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention—”

“Fucking watch it. I’m literally standing off to the side,” Adam snapped as he turned around. He ignored Christina’s panicked expression. “Clearly asking you to use your _eyes_ and _not be a dumbass_ is imposs...”

His brain took way too long to take control of his mouth and make him stop talking. Since the dumbass in front of him—oh fuck he cursed on national television—was none other than Blake Shelton, the world’s youngest and longest running reality show star. He was taller in person.

Blake sheepishly shrugged. “I’m so sorry. It’s my first day. I was trying to get my bearings and find my next class.” He looked so panicked. Adam tensed, waiting for some random security person to tackle him. “I wasn’t looking. Are you ok?”

“Completely,” Adam said. “No harm done.”

“Are you sure? You fell pretty hard.”

Why did he have to be so genuinely concerned? Blake blinked his too blue eyes at him.

“Uh, no you’re totally fine. More than fine. Really it’s mostly my fault,” Adam said. “I overreacted. Obviously. It’s your first day, my first day, we’re all confused. Being lost and not paying attention is expected.” Oh God, he couldn’t stop talking. “So let’s just forget that happened, yeah? Seems much better to do things this way. So...yeah, reset.”

Blake’s worry vanished about two seconds into Adam’s panicked ramble. Instead, a softer, more amused look took over. Which was unnecessary.

The reality star smiled while Adam fidgeted. Which would be better: Unsubtly running away or lingering and probably making the showrunner explode? Maybe they would just send in Luke Bryan—show name unknown—to whisk Blake away.

“Sounds good to me,” Blake said warmly, suddenly looking content to miss his next class, which started in five minutes. “What’s your name?”

“Um...” Adam’s mind blanked for a second. “I’m Tyler.”

“I’m Blake,” Blake Shelton, world’s most identifiable face and last year’s Teen Choice Award’s Celebrity Crush, said. “Who are your friends?”

Adam glanced behind him and saw Christina and Usher awkwardly hovering nearby. The other extras walked aggressively past, shooting them stink eyes. As if any of this was planned.

“This is Sally,” Adam said. Because The Shelton Show was a shit namer so Christina had the whitest and most basic one. He glanced at Usher. Oh fuck. “And this is... I want to say Steve?” Usher shook his head slightly, eyes wide and flickering between Adam and Blake. “Maybe Chad. Oh gross. It definitely isn’t Chad. Or Brad, for that matter.” Thank fuck Blake looked amused or else those random suits would appear and drag Adam offset. “Honestly, I just met him today so his name escapes me.”

 “And I thought I was bad. What’s your name maybe Steve but definitely not Chad or Brad?” Blake asked, sounding more charming than Adam felt was fair.

“I’m Tim,” Usher said.

Adam knew it was unremarkable and forgettable. He was the best at remembering.

“Which is very close to Steve, Chad, and Brad,” Blake said.

“I knew it was something basic,” Adam said.

“That’s just the theme of this town, _Tyler_ ,” Usher said.

“We need to go to class. Come on, A-Tyler.” Christina’s eyes widened. “We can’t be late!”

“What class are you going to?” Blake asked.

“Uh...” Adam glanced down at his random textbooks. Let’s see, he’s already been in fake psychology and fake math with Blake. He only had one other book. “British Literature?”

“Me too,” Blake said. “We can go together.”

The showrunners and producers will skin Adam alive. “Yeah.”

“Are you coming, Tim and Sally?” Blake asked. He frowned at their prop textbooks, specifically their lack of a literature textbook. “Oh I guess not. Well, it was nice meeting you. Come on, Tyler.”

Christina and Usher stared as Blake prodded Adam to walk. He followed Blake, practically feeling the cameras on them.

“Nice tattoos,” Blake said.

“Oh, thanks,” Adam said. He had no idea if anyone else on this show had tattoos. He didn’t think they did.

“I don’t remember seeing you around here,” Blake said. “Did you just move?”

Adam couldn’t remember anything his assigned bio said. Mostly because he never thought it would come up. “Yeah, my family moved from LA.”

“Where?”

Seriously? “Los Angeles, California, you deprived child.”

“Oh,” Blake said. “I knew that.”

“Right,” Adam said. He smirked slightly at Blake’s offended double take.

“I did,” Blake protested.

“Of course you did,” Adam agreed.

“I did,” Blake said, sheepishness creeping into his tone.

“I know you did,” Adam said. “This tiny island couldn’t keep you that sheltered.”

Well, that statement was a terrible thing to let linger.

“So yeah my parents moved here last month and I stayed with them and chose to go to a random community college because um...” Adam said. He should’ve at least read his bio for amusement’s sake. “Because my mom’s dying.” Yeah, that seemed TV-esque. “From breast cancer. Honestly, she could go any time so I’m staying close just in case, you know?”

Blake looked shell-shocked. “Wow, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Adam said, probably too cheerily. “Anyways, you seem like a local. How do you like it here?”

Adam prepared himself for a spiel manufactured from the cheesiness that is this show. ‘The best place on Earth’ would probably be mentioned at least twice.

Blake’s sigh caught him completely off guard.

“It’s...alright. Small, predictable, nothing really changes,” Blake said. Adam blinked rapidly, knowing if NBC wasn’t paying attention before they definitely were now. “It’s boring here. I wanted to leave the island after graduation but Mom and Dad convinced me to at least get a degree first. Then I’ll explore the world.”

Not if the showrunners had anything to say about that. Adam bit his lip. On TV, Blake always looked so happy here, but apparently even the 24/7 show had some clever editing.  The first pangs of guilt went through Adam. Blake was a person, not a TV character and definitely not a willing worldwide sensation. He was just a lonely kid held hostage by a network.

Adam really should’ve paid more attention to all the groups petitioning for Blake’s release.

“I hear Rio is pretty cool,” Adam said.

Blake glanced over. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Adam said. “Not that I’ve ever been there. Or really anywhere outside of LA...”

“Until Seahaven,” Blake said.

He shouldn’t say it. He really shouldn’t say it. He was already in enough trouble. “Someplace interesting was implied.”

Blake looked taken aback—Adam doubted anyone ever said anything remotely negative about Seahaven in front of him—and then chuckled. “Me wanting to move after college was not a go ahead to diss my hometown. You just don’t appreciate the small town life, city boy.”

“Name three fun things to do around here,” Adam said.

“Surfing—”

“You don’t surf,” Adam said. The show made Blake deathly afraid of water by drowning his fake brother when Blake was 12. And now that Adam actually thought about that as more than a trivial show fact, that was all levels of fucked up. How was this show not canceled? Blake went through a serious, traumatic experience.

Blake huffed. “How can you tell?”

Oops. Blake’s fear of surfing was information a stranger wouldn’t know. Adam gave him his best cocky smirk. Blake blinked. “I’m psychic.”

They walked past a columned building Adam was fairly certain contained their fake British Literature class. Oh well, conversing with Blake was much more fun than class.

“Right,” Blake said after a moment. “So we have um...bowling and bingo.”

“Old people activities do not count as something fun,” Adam said. He fought the impulse to run away with Blake and take him literally anywhere else. Not that the crew, security, and Shelton Show control room would let him get far. “I’m also not counting surfing since you don’t surf.”

“I could surf,” Blake said. “I just choose not to.”

“Yeah and I could perform brain surgery,” Adam said. “Your point means nothing.”

“That is not the same thing.”

“I think it is, bigfoot,” Adam said. “Now name more shit.”

“You’re so demanding,” Blake said. But his eyes twinkled and Adam couldn’t help and smirk in reply. “Arcade.”

“Lame,” Adam said, “but fun. I accept arcade.”

“So generous,” Blake said. “Um...hanging out with friends?”

“Not exclusive to Seahaven so no.”

“Art museum?”

“Lame.”

“Foreign film festival.”

“How foreign?” Adam asked. “Like pretentious foreign?”

“I think they’re described as experimental and artistic,” Blake said. “So yeah, they’re very pretentious. I never know what’s going on.”

“Then that definitely doesn’t count,” Adam said. “Another!”

Blake snorted. “Karaoke?”

“Lame,” Adam sang.

“Mudding.”

“Mudding?” Adam repeated. “You’re such a hick. What the fu-freak.”

“Protecting my innocence?” Blake asked. Adam blinked. He actually knew curse words?  “I’m counting mudding as one of my three, by the way.”

“I’ll allow it,” Adam said. “But that still leaves you one short.”

“Ice cream,” Blake said.

Blake was so triumphant he almost hated to burst his bubble. “Ice cream? Seriously? Everyone has ice cream.”

“Not like Seahaven’s,” Blake said. “Seahaven has the best ice cream.”

“You’ve literally lived here your entire life,” Adam said. “You’re not exactly the best judge of that.”

Blake smiled. “Then I suppose I’ll have to take you out after class and prove you wrong.”

Adam opened and closed his mouth. That smooth motherfucker. Blake looked obnoxiously pleased with himself.

“Seriously?”

Uncertainty instantly took over and Adam resisted the urge to reassure him. Blake had zero worries. There was something endearing about the sheltered reality star. Sue him. Plus there was no denying Blake was hot and his surprising sense of humor was hard to resist.

In the real world, Adam would be all over him in a second. But this wasn’t the real world. They were literally being watched by millions.

Don’t flirt. Flirting with the world’s sweetheart on worldwide television was a terrible idea. Even if the world’s sweetheart gave him an obvious onceover.

“Yeah?” Blake said. “Bryan, my friend, has been telling me to get out there more.”

That was definitely not how the showrunners wanted Blake to interpret that unsubtle nudge.

Blake grew up in a completely sheltered environment with exclusively straight couples. Yet he—unless Adam was seriously misreading the situation—had absolutely no qualms going on a date with a guy. What were the chances that NBC’s upbringing and Blake’s zero contact with anything homo actually made him more open-minded? He probably didn’t even know homophobia was a thing.

Blake fidgeted as he walked up the columned building’s steps. Shit, they were going to class now? Adam wasn’t ready to stop his conversation with Blake. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. If you don’t want to—”

“I’ll only go if pizza is also in the deal,” Adam said. The reality star paused. “I have standards unlike a bingo-playing hillbilly I know.”

Blake beamed. “So is that a no to bingo later tonight?”

“I would rather watch paint dry.”

“That could be arranged,” Blake said.

Adam licked his lips as they walked through the front door. Their literature class would be in the room closest to the entrance because even The Shelton Show had to save costs somewhere. Building incomplete college buildings would definitely do that.

“Hey,” Adam said, tugging Blake to a stop in the middle of the tiny lobby, “just in case something happens, know that I really want to go out to ice cream with you.”

“I really want to go out with you too, Tyler,” Blake said, nudging Adam softly. “Are you ok?”

Adam froze at an approaching janitor. “Call me Adam.”

Blake frowned. “Adam?”

“Yeah, it’s my middle name,” Adam said.

“Tyler Adam,” Blake mused. “Doesn’t really go.”

“Blame my parents,” Adam said.

“Hey boys!” the janitor said cheerfully. The dangerous glare he shot Adam vanished as Blake turned around. “Missing class, aren’t you?”

“We got lost,” Blake said. Adam just clutched his books tighter against his chest.

“Well, your class is right behind you,” the janitor said. His smile did not reach his eyes. Blake had to be equally creeped out.

But Blake continued to be friendly. “It is. Thanks, sir!”

The janitor started badly mopping the floor and giving Adam the stink eye as soon as the oblivious star turned around. Blake opened the door and frowned back at him as he continued not to move.

Adam really didn’t want to go through that door.

He slowly trudged into the classroom. The professor and students, including a frowning Gwen and Luke, stared. Adam eyed the two empty chairs next to the door. Maybe the producers decided to see how this played out? Maybe they—

“Tyler Tucker?” the professor asked. Adam swallowed. A+ subtly, NBC.

“Yeah?”

The professor pushed back her silky hair, letting out a shuddering breath. Looked like someone was exercising an emotional muscle she wasn’t anticipating. Adam glanced at Blake who frowned.

“The hospital called.” Dramatic pause. “You need to leave immediately.”

The showrunners worked quick, Adam would give them that. He should’ve known the first sign of gayness would get him kicked out. “Really?”

“I’m afraid so, your mother...” the professor’s voice caught and she put a hand over her heart. It made Adam want to gag her and the producers. This abrupt exit was so many kinds of unnecessary.

“Ok,” Adam said.

“Do you need me to come with you?” Blake asked and the entire room froze.

Adam might’ve fallen a little bit in love right then.

First of all, how sweet does a person have to be to willingly offer to be a shoulder to cry after an essential stranger’s mother probably died? And second of all, how pissed would the scrambling producers be if Adam said yes?

“Blake, you need to stay in class,” Gwen said.

Blake didn’t even glance at half his love triangle. His eyes were only for Adam.

“You should leave now,” the professor said. “Your aunt is waiting with your mom. You don’t want her to lose her job. She can only stay at the hospital for so long without repercussions.”

Adam jerked around to gape at the professor. Seriously? That threat wasn’t even close to subtle. His aunt worked for the same massive network The Shelton Show was on. He had no doubt The Shelton Show creator had enough clout to get her fired from her writing gig. Fucking Hollywood douchebags treated them all like pawns.

“I guess I’ll leave now then,” Adam said, anger barely covered. He gave Blake a lingering onceover. This would probably be the last time he saw the reality star in person. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good.” An evil seed planted in his head. An evil, passive aggressive seed, but it’s the best he got. Adam leered suggestively at Blake. “Rain check on the date.”

Blake flushed and swallowed. “Yeah see you later.”

Adam waved as he walked out of the room, knowing that later would never come. As soon as the door closed, suits descended on him.

“I have to say, your timing is impeccable.”

 

* * *

 

So this was the famed Shelton Show creator, Marlon Wolf. He had less hair than Adam expected.

“So just to be clear,” Marlon said, “you swore on live TV, ignored your own backstory, said enough for Blake to be suspicious of the show—” Adam assumed Marlon referred to the name thing, which he covered quite nicely fuck you very much. “—delayed regularly scheduled programming, and was unnecessarily suggestive all because you missed your cue?”

“To be fair,” Adam said because what did he have to lose?  “I didn’t miss my cue by a lot so it’s Blake’s fault for not paying attention and plowing me over.”

“I don’t care whose fault it is. You were not allowed to even look at Blake, but instead you got your petty chance in the spotlight,” Marlon said.

“That is not what happened,” Adam snapped, “and even if I did methodically plan that, was it a ‘fire the extra’s relatives’ worthy offense? I don’t think so.”

Marlon Wolf slammed his hands down on his sleek desk. “You ruined the image of this show!”

“It was one conversation,” Adam said, “and it probably made your shit show more interesting since you somehow managed to make a Hollywood-controlled town boring enough that the star wants to leave.”

“The conversation was enough,” Marlon said. “Your implications did the show plenty of damage.”

“Damage,” Adam repeated. “It was a date, not planned genocide.”

“It might as well have been,” Marlon said.

“Are you serious right now? What’s wrong with him acting like a person?”

Marlon held up a hand. “Spare me your social justice rant.”

“Wanting you to stop controlling every aspect of Blake’s life is not a social justice rant. It’s more of a human rights rant,” Adam said. “Unless you’re talking about your blatant homophobia because I can definitely rant about that.”

Marlon glared. “I don’t need to answer to you, _extra_. You are, in case there’s any doubt in your mind, fired and you’re lucky your aunt isn’t fired too. You’re never to return to this show and don’t even think of trying to contact Blake.”

Adam knew this was coming. He knew it was coming but he still felt like a punch to the face. “But I already sent him a Facebook friend request.”

“Get out.”

 

* * *

 

“You’re trending,” Michael, Adam’s brother, called through the closed door.

Christina, the delight of his life that she was, threw a boot against the door. “Go away!”

“I’m just trying to be helpful,” Michael said, not taking the hint at all and opening said door. “I told you this show was corrupt. But _no_ you wanted the money. You didn’t bother to think about Blake being an actual human with human reactions.”

“Shut up. You have no moral high ground,” Christina said. Michael sputtered. “Besides signing a few petitions, what have you done to help Blake?”

“More than you,” Michael said. “I didn’t even have to flirt with him to care about him.”

Adam glared. “Fuck off.”

Christina chucked another shoe at Michael. He narrowly dodged it. “Leave before I make you leave.”

“It’s the truth,” Michael, always the social justice warrior, protested. “Maybe now you’ll understand the struggle we’ve faced since day one.”

“You have not been fighting The Shelton Show since day one,” Adam said. “It started years before you were born.”

“Well, I’ve been fighting it as soon as I was aware of what it was,” Michael said. “Unlike some who—”

Christina took a threatening step forward and Michael immediately retreated towards the door.

He stepped backward through the doorframe. “I’m leaving for unrelated reasons.”

Christina slammed the door shut behind him. “I forgot how annoying 15-year-olds are. We weren’t that bad, were we?”

“We were worse probably,” Adam said, grunting as Christina landed partially on him when she sat back onto his bed. She clicked away on her laptop as she made a disgusted sound.

The Shelton Show played in the background because Adam was weak, though he would never be desperate enough to watch Blake while he slept. That would always be creepy. On screen, Blake was forlornly hanging out with Luke, Gwen, and Miranda while the trio giggled and tried to lighten his mood.

Adam wasn’t even presumptuous to say he definitely was the cause of Blake’s sulk. The reality star literally wanted to go to the hospital after his last class to see if Adam was alright. Gwen barely managed to convince him to just send flowers instead.

Adam, not that he was around during the initial reaction, had been pummeled by public response—both professional and random online commenters on the Shelton blog—long before Christina got off work and invaded his room. He honestly anticipated Christina getting fired, but either the studio wasn’t aware of their friendship or they liked they attractive blonde too much. It was up in the air really.

“People are pissed,” Christina said, laptop screen shining on her face.

“No shit,” Adam said. He should really get off Twitter but he was too morbidly curious and his willpower was practically nonexistent.

“They’re either pissed that Blake is not straight or that the show unsubtly kicked you off after he asked you out,” Christina said. “NBC will get bad press no matter who’s covering it.”

“They probably think any type of attention is good attention,” Adam said.

“At least you know that protest groups against The Shelton Show now have strong LGBTQ support,” Christina said.

“It doesn’t matter,” Adam said. “NBC will make half-assed apologies and side with whichever stance will lead to more views, protest groups will continue to gain no legal traction and nothing will continue to be accomplished, and Blake will continue to be an oblivious slave. It’s bullshit.”

It was stupid for him to be this upset for somebody he just met today. But, as Michael so douchely pointed out, flirting and generally interacting with Blake drove home the fact that he wasn’t a mindless reality drone. He was a person who was incredibly misled and lied to since he was born. Blake needed to know what the actual world was like. Adam’s slight boner for the guy was barely a consideration. How people looked past the human rights violation—ignoring the fact that Adam had been grossly neutral earlier—he had no idea.

“Not necessarily,” Christina said.

“No it definitely is bullshit,” Adam said.

Christina rolled her eyes. “I know it is. What I mean is that protest groups have more leverage than you give them credit.”

“Did the president finally take a stance on it or something?”

“Nope but I heard that Gwen and some other actors apparently are against The Shelton Show,” Christina said.

On screen, Luke and the love triangle finally convinced Blake to walk down to the beach. Miranda chucked a volleyball at his face.

“I didn’t get that vibe from them.”

“I’m sure spending years with Blake makes them somewhat sympathetic to his plight,” Christina drawled. “You talked to him for two seconds and now want to bust him out. Imagine how they feel.”

“I assumed they were jaded, honestly.”

“Well they’re not,” Christina said. “After they gain support from some other prominent actors, like Blake’s fake parents, they’re going to the creator to give him an ultimatum. The creator can’t kill off all the big characters. Even he isn’t that sadistic.”

“I wouldn’t put a massacre past dear old Marlon actually,” Adam said. “How do you know all this?”

“I have my ways,” Christina said. Adam just stared until she shrugged. “I eavesdropped on Blake’s actor friends after you got hauled off and Blake wasn’t by them.”

Huh. An unexpected twist, though their choice in times to scheme left much to be desired. “They’re not too subtle, are they?”

“They really don’t have to be,” Christina said. “After Blake leaves, nobody cares what happens. All their eyes and cameras are on the reality star.”

“We think.”

She shrugged. “We think.”

“Well, hopefully, they get a move on,” Adam said. “They’ve been fucking twiddling their thumbs for too long.”

“Calm down, Bromeo,” Christina said.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? That’s what everyone online is calling you. You know how quickly I give into peer pressure,” Christina said.

“Stop trying to be funny.”

“How else can I simultaneously reference your and Blake’s date and people’s homophobia and insistence that you both were just hanging out as friends?” Christina asked. “Bromeo is much more efficient.”

“I regret ever befriending you,” Adam said.

“Says the person people either want to worship or lynch,” Christina said. She glanced over at Adam. “Maybe you should stay inside for a bit. Just until this blows over.”

“Yeah no shit,” Adam said. “How long do you think it’ll take?”

Christina shrugged. “A few days? A week? I don’t know.” She rolled out of bed. “Well, I need to go home. Some of us didn’t cause scandals that caused a national crisis.”

“Lame,” Adam said.

“I know I am.” Christina tugged on her shoes. “Now stay out of trouble.”

“I’ll try and catch a glimpse of you on TV,” Adam called.

Christina shut the door behind her so only TV Blake filled the silence. He stared at the bonfire distantly while his actor friends chatted happily around him, unsuccessful at drawing him into their conversation.

This would all blow over soon. Blake would forget about him and their almost date in a few days and then Bromeo would be a distant memory.

Unless he used his Bromeo status to try and get Blake out quicker? His eyes flickered between his TV and the still freaking out internet. That could work.

 

* * *

 

Marlon sipped his coffee as he watched the monitor. The “Bromeo” Scandal took a surprising toll. It was nothing like the backlash when they killed Blake’s brother, but it was up there.

Of course, this time more sponsors threatened to pull out. It was popular to be PC. It was expected that companies would kick up some fuss. It didn’t mean anything would actually happen.

On the giant monitor, Blake walked to his first class, relatively cheerful especially since they made Miranda visit him late last night and bond over her fake family’s drama. So far, it seemed to distract Blake from Adam’s fake mom’s hospital visit and probable death.

The sooner Blake and the audience forgot about his gay tendency, the better.

Blake entered the classroom and immediately turned away from his smiling friends. Marlon’s grip tightened on his cup. He hated when things veered from their designated schedule.

_“Sally?” Blake asked some blonde extra._

“Uh, should we run interference?” an operator with an afro asked as Blake stood over the extra’s desk.

Marlon shook his head. “Let’s see what he wants. Viewers will want to know.”

And viewers would most likely protest at another obvious intervention. The extra looked harmless enough.

_The blonde extra turned, obviously surprised, but she recovered nicely._

Marlon made note to see how she handled lines and improvised scenarios. Gwen had grown obnoxiously preachy. The girl thought since she was a love interest, she wouldn’t see repercussions. Someone needed to prove her wrong since apparently her contract wasn’t enough.

_“Yeah, hey...Blake, right?”_

The blonde was pretty enough for TV.

“Who is she?”

_“Yeah, I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me.”_

One of the other nameless operators tapped on his computer. The blonde’s—Christina Aguilera—file appeared one of the screens in front of Marlon. He skimmed over her information. Good, a local girl. Probably meant she was desperate for a break. LA residents were all too willingly to sign away their life for a slim shot of fame.

_“You’re pretty hard to forget.”_

He paused at a reference on her file. Lucy Levine’s reference got her the job. Why was that name familiar?

_“Yeah,” Blake chuckled awkwardly. “Do you know where Adam is?”_

Adam Levine. Flashes of the blonde standing next to the rogue extra yesterday when Blake ran into him invaded his mind. Lucy Levine was the aunt that recommended Adam, and apparently his blonde friend, to the show.

“Make Luke run interference,” Marlon said. “Now.”

All operators were an instant flurry of movement.

If Christina was floundering, she didn’t show it.

_“He’s out today,” Christina said. “His mom isn’t doing good. The doctors say that she can go any time.”_

_“Oh wow, that’s—”_

_“Hey Blake!” Luke said, throwing an arm around Blake’s shoulder. “I need your notes from yesterday. I’m behind already.”_

It took a while for Blake to look away from Christina. Marlon tensed.

_“This is only the second day,” Blake said._

_Luke smiled._

It looked strained. Marlon would have to talk to him.

_“Then it’s better I get caught up now then later.”_

_“I guess,” Blake said. He turned back to Christina. “Give Adam my best, yeah?”_

_Christina nodded. “I will.”_

“Why does he know Adam’s real name?” Marlon snapped.

“He told Blake it yesterday,” the afro operator said.

Adam was rapidly becoming a thorn in his side.  “Keep Blake away from Christina. I don’t want him to even think about Adam.”

“Wouldn’t Christina suddenly disappearing make Blake more suspicious?” afro asked. “If she stays on set then he’ll be appeased going through her and won’t attempt to go to the hospital.”

Marlon’s eyes flickered down to afro’s nametag. Ah, he was a supervisor. That explained why he actually used his brain.

“Alright, Christina stays, but someone get her an earpiece,” Marlon said. “We don’t know if we’ll need to guide her.”

 

* * *

 

“He asked about you,” Christina said, bursting into Adam’s room.

His hand froze on his guitar. “What?”

She frowned at his rumpled clothes and the open chip bag and pizza box in front of him. “Have you gone anywhere today? When I said lie low, I didn’t mean cut yourself off of society.”

“It’s been a day, chill out,” Adam said.

“Did you watch any of The Shelton Show?” Christina asked.

“I caught a bit around lunch,” Adam said. “Oh don’t give me that look. Was I supposed to stay glued to the TV all day? I have a life.”

She stared pointedly at his stained sweats and stubble. “Clearly.”

“Whatever,” Adam said. “What happened?”

“Blake asked after you,” Christina said, “to me directly. I thought I would get fired but they just gave me an ear piece.”

“Aren’t you fancy,” Adam said, strumming his guitar again.

“Adam, you hermit, Blake lusting after you is only part of my news.”

“He’s not lusting—”

“The studio is getting shit on,” Christina said. “There were tons of protests in the parking lot and pretty much everyone with a media outlet is complaining about The Shelton Show taking you away, even Ellen.”

“Not Ellen,” Adam said. “Why is the show being homophobic more of a controversy than them literally adopting and manipulating a child?”

Christina shrugged. “Blake’s captivity is old news while social justice is the new thing everyone is getting behind, especially in Hollywood.”

“That’s stupid,” Adam said.

“It’s drawing more attention to how blatantly the studio is controlling Blake’s life,” Christina said. “It’s a step in the right direction.”

True. Adam snatched a cold slice of pizza. “But how long will it last?”

“I think you doubt both the reach of the show and how quickly all the anti-Sheltoners are jumping on this,” Christina said. “They’ll make this last as long as they need it to.”

“Oh joy.”

“It’s a means to an end, Adam. An end that you want. Suck it up.”

 

* * *

 

Marlon glared as Blake went straight to Christina, who they moved out of his first class for the sole purpose of keeping her away from Blake.

_“Hey did you drop psych?” Blake asked._

_Christina shifted on the bench she shared with a Hispanic extra.  “Yeah, I can take psychology whenever. A more specialized course opened up that was the same time slot as our old psych class so I switched._

“Why is he by her?” Marlon asked.

Afro operator shrugged. “Should I send someone to him? Luke, Gwen, and Miranda are still on set 2.”

Marlon seethed. “Why are they there? Get them by Blake asap.”

_“This is my friend Whitney, by the way.”_

_“Hi, Whitney.” Blake smiled briefly as the Hispanic extra waved. “So is Adam’s mom doing any better? I sent more flowers for her last night. I know that flowers don’t really serve a purpose but—”_

_“They show that you care,” Christina said, “and they show her that someone, even a stranger, is thinking about her. Adam really appreciates it. He’s practically living at the hospital so I haven’t seen him much.”_

“Miranda is heading there now,” afro operator said.

_“Should we both try and go to the hospital and give him some company?” Blake asked.  “I can’t believe all this is happening to him.”_

_“I know,” she said. “It’s awful.”_

“Patch me through to Christina’s earpiece,” Marlon said. One of the other operators typed rapidly on their computer and then gave Marlon a thumbs up. He held a microphone up to his mouth. “Christina.”

She jumped slightly, but Blake didn’t notice.

“Christina say no because the Tuckers just want to be with family. You and Blake would just get in the way,” Marlon said.

_“But the Tuckers just want to have family at the hospital,” Christina said. “I think we would just get underfoot.”_

That was an almost believable delivery. Blake even looked disappointed. Not bad for an extra.

_“For now, anyway. I think she’s on the mend and Adam will be back soon,” Christina said sweetly. Blake instantly perked up_

Marlon scowled. “Now stop talking about Adam. Change the subject.”

_“I’ve been thinking of getting a tattoo,” Christina said._

_Blake frowned but seemed to accept the abrupt conversation change. “Of what?”_

_“I’m not really sure,” Christina said. “Something music related. I think I’ll ask Adam for advice. He’s really into music, did you know?”_

“I can get you fired. Stop talking about Adam,” Marlon said. He put down the microphone. “Where’s Miranda?”

“Close!”

_“Really?” Blake asked._

_“Yeah singing, guitar, and drums mostly,” Christina said. “But enough about him, tell me about you. Where do you want to go?”_

_“Go?”_

Why was Blake so game for random, jumpy conversations? Marlon should have sculpted him to be less accepting.

_“Yeah, this island is tiny. There’s no way you want to be here for much longer. You know, they say that you never really appreciate life until you completely immerse yourself in another culture.”_

_“I like the island because it’s home,” Blake said._

_“But?” Christina prompted._

_Blake smiled._

Marlon refrained from ripping out the rest of his hairs.

_“But I can’t wait to leave. I’m not sure where I want to go first—”_

_“Blake!” Miranda called._

“Finally,” Marlon muttered. “Get Christina away from him.”

_“Hey Chelsea,” Blake said. “You late for something? You’re sweaty.”_

_“Don’t be rude, Blake,” Miranda said, only panting slightly. “So I have a favor to ask. You know how this weekend you’re completely free and available to help me?”_

_“Um...I don’t want to say yes.”_

Marlon watched as Miranda cleverly kept Blake distracted while one of their onsite security members grabbed Christina. Finally. The residue of the Adam problem, at least on set, was taken care of.

Blake was visibly confused by her absence, but he trusted Miranda to cover their tracks.

“Um sir, you’re needed in the conference room,” afro operator said.

“Later,” Marlon said. “I need to—”

“The CEO of NBC is here,” afro interrupted.

Marlon whirled and froze on the impressive pinstripe suit that sat imposingly in the conference room. Fuck.

 

* * *

 

“I’m just saying if they’re documenting Blake’s life, they should document all parts of it,” the blonde one from The View said. Adam didn’t know anyone but Whoopi Goldberg. He sat on the crappy couch in the basement because it was the only place that safe from the lurking paparazzi. “The point of The Shelton Show is to show us his life and they’re ruining that.”

“What they’re ruining,” Whoopi said as the audience began to clap, “is Blake’s life. How long do you think the show can keep up the deception? How normal do you think Blake will turn out if they force him to stay on Seahaven forever and not actually experience life?”

Gloomy thought. Adam changed the channel.

“—Show should represent the world. Adam Levine’s brief stint on the show demonstrates how the LGBT community are not accurately represented or even mentioned. The Shelton Show only recently started adding people of color. How long do we have to wait for—”

He hated how everyone knew his name. His original plan to use his Bromeo status to aid Blake had yet to happen. The rabious paparazzi camped out in front of his house had been a terrifying reason to delay and hide. Even Michael got harassed so now he’s staying at Dad’s while Adam remained with Mom, who had taken to walking through the swarm of paps with their dog by her side.

He clicked to the next channel.

“They’re just pissed their golden boy did something unexpected, which is ridiculous since the unexpected makes for good television.”

Click.

“I don’t want my child watching a show that promotes homosexual—”

Click.

“The point is to watch Blake grow and the show is blatantly manipulating—”

Click.

“—a normal life then Blake could experience what he wanted. It’s unfair to force him down a preselected path, but that does seem to be the trend of The Shelton Show. As a parent, as a human, I think what they’re doing is appalling.”

Click.

“Adam Levine was not planned! You could tell that he’s not an actor.”

Definitely not.

Click.

“—unexpected homophobia especially when considering the CEO of the NBC is gay—”

Click.

“Blake needs choices and he needs to be informed of those sources. Should Adam have stayed to give Blake the opportunity of personal growth? Of course. But should Blake also be given knowledge of the outside world and the option to leave? Yes.”

Adam turned off the TV. Everyone was tearing into NBC, which was awesome, but pretty much everyone mentioned Adam directly and that would never not be weird.

“There you are! Fucking in the dark like some creeper,” Christina said, bursting into the basement.

Adam jumped. “Shouldn’t you be at work? What are you doing here?”

“I was about to get fired.”

“What?”

“I didn’t. It’s fine. Let’s move on,” Christina said, turning on a lamp and plopping down next to a startled Adam. “So I was going to get fire, but then I didn’t and guess what.”

“I have no idea what’s happening,” Adam said.

“Fucking Stephen Burke came in and ripped into Marlon—”

“Who is Stephen Burke?”

Christina rolled her eyes. “CEO of NBC. Keep up.”

“It’s not like that’s common knowledge.”

“The _gay_ CEO of NBC,” Christina said, “who does not like the network’s most popular show having a homophobic message.”

He felt like that’s something he should’ve heard when creeping through news coverage. Honestly, the fact the CEO was gay could’ve easily been lost in all the noise. Though he didn’t particularly see what the CEO’s pro-LGBTQ stance had to do with Christina.

“So you’re not fired?”

“Considering that my biggest crime was talking about you?” Christina said. “Nope.”

“Um...congratulations you’re a star?” Adam said. Christina continued to look at him expectantly. “What?”

Christina grinned. “Welcome back to the show.”

“What!”

“The quickest way to remedy the show’s homophobic stance is to have the source of the controversy return.”

He could see Blake again.

Ugh he couldn’t believe that was his first thought.

“Who says I want to go back?”

“You have to,” Christina said. “I’ve already taken care of everything. Stephen loves the idea.”

“Why’d you even bring that up?” Adam asked. “Who said I want to go back?”

“Don’t be an idiot, Adam,” Christina said. “Of course you want to go back.”

“I was only there a day,” Adam said. “It’s not like I fell in love with the guy.”

“Who said anything about love?” Christina asked. “You want to free Blake from the show, don’t you?”

“Well yeah.”

“Then there you go. You’re coming back,” Christina said. “Besides, the show will probably give you a decent contract and paycheck. Not that it should matter. We just need to make sure your contract won’t have anything that can bite you in the ass when you break it.”

Adam’s mind whirled. When Christina thought of a plan she was generally pretty shit at explaining it. Either that or Adam was too slow to keep up. “When I break it?”

Christina nodded. “Pretty immediately. I already sorted everything with Gwen and Miranda when Stephen chewed out Marlon and everyone else of importance.”

“You talked to them?”

“In the bathroom,” Christina said. “It’s easy enough to make the producers and nearby tech operators avoid us. I just loudly asked for a tampon.”

“Kudos on using your womanly wiles,” Adam said, “but who says that Miranda or Gwen won’t run to Marlon with your plan?”

“I’m not stupid,” Christina said. “I came into a conversation with them bitching about how Stephen used his power when it involves LGBTQ issues but not when it involves Blake’s personal rights. It was very loud and very much in the middle of headquarters.”

“I told you they were bad at scheming,” Adam said.

“More reason we need to move quickly,” Christina said. “Gwen and Miranda will be replaced if the show continues for much longer and there goes two big supporters.”

“I suppose,” Adam said. “I’ll be honest, I’m still really confused what’s happening. What's your plan?”

“I mostly refined something they had in mind and pointed out the obvious flaws,” Christina said. “I also coordinated with some extras. We need ground support.”

She was scarily efficient. “So what do you need me for?”

Christina smiled at him, her red lips dangerous and sharp. “All you need to do is something big. Something big enough to distract everyone—extras, headquarters, viewers—for at least a minute and then Blake will be free.”

“I can do that.”

 

* * *

 

“I didn’t want you back,” Marlon said.

Wow, Adam literally just walked into the headquarters.

“But the network and viewers want you,” Marlon said as if the CEO of NBC didn’t demand for Adam’s return and Marlon’s balls on a platter. “So I’ll make do. You’re not allowed to say anything without my explicit instruction. You will remain unobtrusive, not swear, and will not engage with Blake unless he talks to you first.”

“I read the contract too,” Adam said, taking his eyes off Marlon to both irritate him and study the multiple computers and huge screens that streamed different parts of Seahaven. Blake ate breakfast with his TV parents, at least three obvious product placements on the table. One computer operator with an afro smiled faintly when they made eye contact.

Marlon glowered. “Your mother has survived and your parents are currently being cast. You have no siblings or pets—”

“Does anyone have pets?”

“Your name is Tyler Adam Tucker,” Marlon said, shoving something hard and plastic into his hand. “This is your earpiece and you will not be alone with Blake at any time. Luke will be by you the entire time.”

Adam raised a hand. Marlon scowled. “What if Blake requests gay alone time? Do I make it kinkier and include Luke?”

Marlon’s mouth tightened. It made his incessant questions worth it. “Do not go off script. This is your last shot here. Trust me, you’ll get no other chances. I made sure of that.”

“Right-o, chief.”

Marlon’s glare was a thing of beauty.

 

* * *

 

Adam arrived to the college campus set late because Marlon was a petty bitch who insisted on he rehearsed his backstory—not with Marlon of course—and continuously emphasized how quickly onsite security teams could run interference.

He only made it on set now because the afro operator pointed out it was almost lunch time and Adam was probably hungry. Afro guy was his favorite, especially since lunchtime was the prefect time to implement their plan.

Adam whistled as he walked through the campus square, passing Shakira who seemed perpetually glued to the bench. Shakira’s face brightened when she saw him but she made no move to acknowledge him, instead casually pulling out a cell phone as if extras didn't all go through extensive security screenings and pat downs before walking on set and typing a quick message.

He squashed a wave of excitement and nerves as he spotted Usher leaning against a column in the outside eating area.

“Theodore,” Adam greeted. “How are things?”

“Tim,” Usher said, “and more interesting now that you’re here. Christina mentioned you were returning but when you didn’t show up for class this morning...”

“I had shit to do elsewhere,” Adam said sending a smile at the closest streetlamp and probable camera. “Is Blake in the outdoor food court thingie?”

 _“Don’t curse, Adam. You curse and you’re out.”_ Adam rolled his eyes at Marlon’s reedy voice.

“The Seahaven Community College’s Sea Haven?” Usher asked. “Yep. He went out there ten minutes ago.”

“Seahaven’s Sea Haven?” Adam asked. “That can’t seriously be what it’s called. The sea isn’t even near here.”

“There’s a fountain.” He patted Adam on the shoulder. “Good luck, Bromeo. I need to find my next mark.”

“See you,” Adam said. At Usher’s departure, about a dozen extras meandered after him and Adam doubted that any of them were diligent workers who selflessly cut their lunch breaks short in order to also find their marks. He smirked. Christina did not fuck around.

He shifted towards the community college’s outdoor eating area that was hopefully not actually called Seahaven’s Sea Haven. The creators were shit enough namers that Adam was positive that they would’ve used that lazy play on words earlier and in a more appropriate location.

 _“Remember: Don’t engage with Blake unless he interacts with you first,”_ Marlon the micromanger said, _“and even if he does, maintain your distance. I don’t want you two too close.”_

Shame the earpieces weren’t a two way radio. Adam had many snarky retorts to that. Of course, snarky retorts didn’t particularly work in favor on Christina’s plan. Not that The Shelton Show could exactly kick him out now—not when he already arrived on camera and hadn’t approached Blake yet—so he had leverage.

Blake was easy enough to find. Cinematically, eating in front of the fountain was the most aesthetic so that’s where Blake was found. Gwen and Luke laughed on either side of him. The other extras gaped at Adam, pretended they didn’t see him, or left the eating area. Christina, naturally, was nowhere to be found.

“Adam!” Blake called, standing up from the concrete bench. Adam grinned, waving and walking towards them. Luke and Gwen looked too pleased to see him. Maybe Marlon wouldn’t notice. Though, hopefully not in a conceited way, Adam considered this the start of his epic one minute distraction. At least Marlon had yet to take his eyes away from him. “I was beginning to think I’d never see you again.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Adam said, stopping very much in Blake’s personal bubble. The reality star definitely didn’t mind. His easy grin and casual shift closer to Adam made Marlon’s irritating screeches all the easier to block out.

Then Blake’s big blue eyes turned earnest. Adam smiled. “How’s your mom? Better?”

“She’s on the mend,” Adam said. “Doctors think they removed all cancerous tissues.”

“That’s great!” Blake beamed, wrapping Adam into a full body hug. He mentally added ‘Awesome hugger’ to Blake’s list of attributes. He looped his arms around the reality star. “I was so worried.”

“I know you were,” Adam said. “I just wished we got to go out for ice cream that one day.”

“There’s time for that,” Blake said. “You had to be with your family.”

“Yeah,” Adam said, “but that meant I couldn’t do this.”

Blake’s confusion lasted .2 seconds. Because Adam shifted his arm until he gripped Blake’s hair and tugged a willing Blake forward until their lips met. Someone—probably an extra—gasped. Blake’s lips moved awkwardly—there was definitely more enthusiasm than skill—but he was more than happy to let Adam take the lead. Though Blake needed no encouragement to run his hands up and down and grope random parts of Adam’s body. He shamelessly squeezed his ass on global television. Presumptuous idiot.

Adam smirked, deepening their kiss. Blake has kissed maybe two people his entire life. Yet he was determined to be the most memorable. He bit down softly on Blake’s bottom lip, using his tongue to sooth the slight sting. Blake groaned.

_“—stop now. You think this is some type of stand? This is nothing. You’ll be nothing by the time I’m done with—”_

Had Marlon been talking this entire time? Mood killer.

Adam removed the hand that cupped Blake’s jaw, reaching towards his ear and tossing the earpiece into the fountain. He also threw up his hand with his middle finger raised high just because he was vindictively petty. Also Marlon and the show were gross and terrible and the middle finger was honestly a nice way to get off.

He drew Blake’s eager tongue into his mouth, half-heartedly trying to referee the amount of tongue Blake used. Distantly he heard a screech of tires. Security? He thought they were more subtle.

“Time to separate, love birds,” Gwen said. “Your ride’s here.”

Adam and Blake broke apart when Miranda screeched to a halt in a white, generic golf cart. Gwen smiled. Adam blinked as most of the extras and Luke linked arms around the outdoor eating area, not allowing security to come in. When did that happen?

Blake was at least doubly confused. “Ride? What’s going on?”

Gwen shot Adam a pointed look. Not that he needed much direction. Adam tugged Blake to the golf cart. “Come on, we’ll show you.”

Blake followed slowly.

“Strap in, boys,” Miranda said, slamming down on the gas and not allowing them any time to strap in. Adam gripping a handle and Blake as the golf cart jolted forward. She beeped and some of the extras parted, letting the golf cart through. She bypassed some diving security guards and other crew.

“Chelsea, did you steal this?” Blake shouted. Thankfully his death grip on Adam and his 15 year relationship with Miranda kept him firmly in the golf cart, though he was very tense. Adam rubbed Blake in what was hopefully a soothing fashion.

Miranda laughed. “You have no idea. Also, call me Miranda.”

“Miranda?”

 

* * *

 

The plan, at the end of the day, was fairly simple: Get Blake behind the scenes, expose the manufactured Seahaven, see Miranda’s earpiece, and reveal the real world. It was a simple yet very effective plan especially when Miranda explained during their three minutes away from security that he’s always on camera and any demand he made would be met instantly. Which wasn’t correct, but any message Blake made would cause enough controversy that the studio would most likely comply.

Luckily, NBC’s CEO, the majority of stockholders, and The Shelton Show’s sponsors were quick to advocate for Blake’s release especially after the video feeds of security forcing Blake back into the compound went viral. Even hardcore Shelton fans called for Blake’s release, ironically protesting his mistreatment even though it could be successfully argued that his entire existence was mistreated and manipulated by NBC and Marlon Wolf.

Then the impossible happened: People turned their TV’s off of The Shelton Show in protest.

In the face of such staunch public hate and no money to pad their hurt, NBC forced The Shelton Show to shut down and Blake was released the next day. There were different levels of media shitstorms. Some were shallow tabloid stories, others were unrecoverable and career-ruining. NBC correctly decided that this controversy was rapidly becoming the latter.

They also didn’t sue any of the actors or extras who broke their contract, which everyone definitely did. More extras were in on it than Adam anticipated, most playing obstacles and hindering security and other crew members trying to stop Blake. Though, according to Christina, NBC forbid Luke, Gwen, and Miranda from every working in their network again.

Blake remained their golden boy. And as NBC was technically his guardian, they paid for a very nice apartment in the middle of LA where he was adjusting better than anyone anticipated. Of course, for Blake the people didn't change much. Everyone was still insanely friendly. They were just more prone to screaming.

After a few rounds of interviews with primetime shows, including Ellen not that Blake realized what an honor that was, he decided to avoid cameras and TV in general. He instead focused on real school—all paid for by NBC—and living life without millions of people watching.

In his head, Adam swore he wouldn’t move too quickly with Blake. Or even do anything besides ensure that he adjusted to the real world. But then he and Blake met for the first time post-show after Christina, thanks to Gwen, gave him Blake’s address.

And well. Blake was really hard to resist.

“People still wear flannel, right?” Blake asked.

Adam rolled his eyes at his boyfriend of officially three months. “You have eyes, don’t you? Flannel is the thing to wear.” He eyed his boyfriend considerately, taking precious moments away from his video game and dying instantly in the process. He sighed. “Even if it wasn’t, you could make it a trend.”

“I know...”

“Wow. Conceited much?”

Blake continued to worryingly gnaw his bottom lip and not respond so Adam shut off the console, moving until he stood in front of Blake.

“What’s up?”

“Just...it’s my first day of college,” Blake said. “Real college. Specifically my first time at a college that’s not manufactured to make sure I succeed.”

“The Shelton Show didn’t always want you to succeed,” Adam said. “Too much cheer and success makes for boring TV.”

“I just don’t want to make the wrong choice,” Blake said, staring at his large and very redundant closet. Besides one suit and the band shirts Adam forced on him, his entire wardrobe was flannel and denim. “I still wonder sometimes how many of my decisions were my own and how many were Marlon’s.”

“Marlon didn’t create you. If he did, you’d be a much bigger asshole,” Adam said. “Plus you would still be the mindless drone in The Shelton Show instead of the human rights activist and probably the most positive, influential role model you are now.”

Blake finally turned his bright blue eyes to Adam. He smiled softly. “Hmm I do put a lot on the table. Makes you look terrible in comparison.”

“I’m a fucking hero,” Adam said, plopping on Blake’s bed. “I helped bust you out.”

“You made out with me while everyone else did the heavy lifting,” Blake said. The mattress dipped as he sat beside Adam.

“Like that was a hardship for you,” Adam said. “Besides, I also made you gay. That’s like ten points.”

Blake frowned. “I was bi before you—”

“Shush,” Adam said, waving his hand vaguely and whacking Blake’s nose. “I had two middle aged women and one old man yell at me in Johnny Rockets for converting you. They only used three old fashion slurs. Clearly they know what they’re talking about.”

Blake scowled, still not used to the easy, often illogical hatred that came with the real world. “When did that happen?”

“Couple days ago?” Adam said, poking Blake’s scrunched forehead until the wrinkles lightened. “Which is a shame because people were beginning to forget what I looked like but then someone filmed them harassing me and me docilely standing by and definitely not retaliating with anything above a PG rating—”

“Docile is the first word I use to describe you.”

“And it went viralish and some news stations ran with it as a story as if that was the first time anything like that happened,” Adam said. “Though I see your hermit ways successfully kept you out of the loop. So kudos.”

“The internet is terrifying,” Blake said. “I typed ‘Good morning’ under your instructions and people wouldn’t stop tweeting at me.”

“That’s because your famous around the globe, babe,” Adam said. “It’s shocking still, I know. You’re such a boring individual.”

Blake flicked Adam’s nose. “It’s my charm. No one can resist it.”

Adam scoffed.

“Especially you,” Blake said, dipping closer to Adam’s mouth. Adam attempted not to look as interested as he definitely was. “With my classy lines.”

Wait. “Don’t say—”

“Good morning and, in case I don’t see you, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!”

Adam rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe you used to say that seriously.”

“I still say is seriously,” Blake said.

“Fuck off. No one is that cheery.”

Blake lightly kissed Adam. “You make me cheery.”

He scowled. “Not that cheery.”

“Good afternoon, good evening, and good night,” Blake said solemnly.

“Fuck you,” Adam said.

Blake looked too satisfied. “Then it will be a good afternoon, good evening, and good night.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” Adam said, fondness taking any amount of sting out of his words.

Blake leaned down, kissing Adam with much more finesse than he did during their first kiss. Adam was the best teacher. “I know.”


End file.
